Snapshot
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: Two children, bathed in the glow of the dying sun, had their picture taken at a landfill...but they looked so pleased about it that the lady couldn't help but smile.


_**Foreground: the part of a scene or picture that is nearest to and in front of the viewer.**_

_A woman, pushing through her middle age pulls out a picture from an envelope and opens it. Sighing, she traces the faces of two young children. They were both young and old, frail yet sturdy, innocent and yet so very tainted with the corruption with life. The young youths were standing in the foreground of the picture, their forms outlined by the weak sun and the heaping mounds of endless trash. It was both a beautiful sight and yet so very sad. _

_The smiles were engraved on their faces for an eternity, but the poverty and loneliness were still located deeper into their souls._

* * *

><p>"Jamal! Salim!" A young girl, less then ten years of age frantically shook awake her two traveling companions. Her eyes, usually timid and passive, were now pulsing with sudden life and determination. Her calloused hands—from work at picking apart the trash dump they were staying at—pulled at the boys' t-shirts and their pants. When nothing else seemed to stir those two awake, the young girl decided to slap them into the living.<p>

"Ah," Salim moaned harshly. His deep brown eyes, once innocent and carefree, hardened as he took in the gleeful looking girl. While most would have regarded this as a welcoming sight, he just threw some plastic at her to make her quiet. "Shut up! I told you that I didn't want to wake up until later!"

Abruptly, Latika pulled away from waking up her friend, a submissive stance taking over her. This was normal behavior, especially since she was still settling into the brothers' different dynamics. However, it still stung to know that Salim was still biting at her harshly because of her abrupt intrusion into his life.

Settling back on her haunches, she stared hard at the dirt floor, obviously not wanting to anger the young man further. Meanwhile, the youngest boy in the group furiously rubbed at the crust in his eyes, his sleepy gaze just barely leaving him.

"Latika," the young boy mumbled. Unlike his elder brother, the younger one didn't hold ill will towards the girl. It was him that invited her to come along with him after they had lost their only family members. Besides, who else could fill in the vacant spot for the third musketeer? "Is something wrong?"

The young girl looked up and cautiously smiled at the younger boy.

"Yes, I thought that we could get our pictures taken today!" She clapped her hands excitedly, obviously smitten with the idea. It was also quite obvious that she tried her hardest not to give Salim too much reason to start snapping at her—it was enough that she was chosen to tag along with them.

Unfortunately, the cynical side of the leader of this ragtag crew of orphans had to interject with his pessimism.

"Get that stupid idea out of your head. No one in this wretched place has enough to buy a camera and who would want to take a picture of you!" With one final huff, the young boy decided that enough was enough. He collapsed on his makeshift bed in the tent and pretended to go back to sleep.

Frowning, the younger of the two males decided to humor the third musketeer. Signaling her to be quiet, he motioned for her to go outside while he reorganized his pallet on the dirt. Finding nothing amiss, the Indian lad hauled himself out of the tent and into the abhorrent stench of the landfill they were currently residing in. Once he was outside and fully awake, the boy was pulled by his arms and into a westerly direction.

"Where are we going?" Jamal asked curiously. Were they truly getting their pictures taken? And if so, how were they doing that? Questions of the sort flitted into Jamal's mind, but he was effectively silenced when Latika placed a finger on his lips.

Jamal noticed that her fiendish grin made her look lively and far more colorful than the grungy landscape that they were usually toiling in. He quite liked the way her lips curved upwards and how her dark, dark eyes seemed to glow and brighten in this state. It almost seemed that none of the bad things had ever happened to him. That maybe, just maybe, he could forget all the negative and enjoy in the positives.

For example, he could focus on the dazzling sunlight that Latika seemed to personify.

"We're not leaving Salim are we?"

Latika laughed like she was one of those dazzling heroines in the movies; the picture perfect damsels in distress who waited for their prince.

"Silly boy, of course not! A blonde lady has a camera and she's taking pictures of the trash! When she saw me, she asked if she could take a picture of me," the girl's eyes glimmered even more happily when she recalled even more of the event. "She said that I was very pretty and that she was honored to take my picture…But!" She wagged her dirty fingers in front of Jamal's face—there was a cute smile on his face too, "I told her that if she wanted to take my picture, she had to take my friend's too!"

Beaming, Jamal held her hand even tighter than before. It wasn't necessarily very tight, only enough so that Latika knew that he was grateful to join her on this little crusade of theirs. For some odd reason, the warmth that was brought about between their contact seemed to be very warm, almost unbearable. And yet, Jamal liked her warmth.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"What about Salim? I bet he would like his picture taken too!"

A sad smile was on Latika's face as she answered. She was still grateful for the both of them, for taking her in and letting her share with their meager food. However, she was still a bit wary of his older brother.

"Jamal, I already asked him, but he said no."

Both fell silent.

The only sound that could be heard from that point on was the shuffling of children's feet as they picked their way through the endless mounds of refuse. For most it would have been challenging, for them it was only a mundane chore. Time was slow for them and in this place it was pretty close to standing pretty still. It was no surprise that they found the tourist just casually taking pictures of some trash and looking very bored.

"Well lookie here! Your boyfriend's pretty cute," the blonde woman laughed merrily. She ran over to the two children, eyeing them carefully. The first thing that Jamal noticed was the fact that her hair was like the rays of the sun when it was midday. Strands coiled around her head in a fashionable hairdo, haloing her face in ways that neither of the two Indian natives could have ever hoped to understand. Her eyes, blue and distant like glass, pierced through Jamal's soul. For some odd reason, he was flung to the past when he saw Allah Rama…

"—and here's my friend Jamal! Say hello!" If it weren't for Latika pinching the underside of his arm, Jamal wouldn't have left the nightmare of what happened many moons ago.

"H-hello," Jamal mumbled. Normally an outgoing and courageous soul, he only stuttered because this was his first time meeting someone so un-Indian like—and his memories were still there at the back of his mind.

The woman grinned, although a bit absently.

"What about your other friend? Doesn't he want to get his picture taken?"

Latika shook her head.

"No, madam, he felt too tired."

The woman shrugged, two was more than enough for her little excursion in the outskirts of the town. Toying with her camera for a few seconds, she pointed at a random spot of the junkyard. At first, Jamal was confused as to why she chose this spot. Was there something interesting there that caught her eye? Or was this foreigner only fickle with her photo-taking expertise?

Seeing the look of dumb surprise, the woman decided to treat her subjects to an explanation.

"I like how this area seems to be nearly empty of the trash, allowing you two to stand…however, while there appears to be nothing where you stand, when I focus my camera, in the background there are large mounds of trash. It's almost picturesque if it weren't for the poverty," the woman pursed, thinking silently before adding, "The grey clouds that are rolling in provide some nice atmosphere too."

Both of the two children remained silent, awaiting her orders. Once she was done mumbling to herself, she pointed at her lips, a sure sign that she wanted them to smile.

_Click. _

There was a slight shutter sound that rang out through the nearly empty expanse. The woman paused for a moment to snag a look at her camera before nodding to herself. Raising her camera, she pressed the button a few more times to capture the look innocence in the duo's young but haggard faces.

Sneaking a look at the pictures she had had taken at the menu screen, a look of achievement filled her face. Two children, bathed in the glow of the dying sun, had their picture taken at a landfill...but they looked so pleased about it that the lady couldn't help but smile. Truly, this was one picture that she would never forget.

Once she was done with that, the blonde woman smiled to herself.

"Alright," she chirped happily. "I believe that is all." Her bright blue eyes twinkled in mischief. There was something in her orbs that wanted Jamal to run away and take Latika away with him. Was she going to do something to them? Fortunately his suspicions were unfounded when the lady fished a few bills from her purse and handed them to Latika.

"B-but, miss!" The young girl nearly choked in surprise. While not exactly knowledgeable when it came to money, the bills looked like they were bogged down with a weighty responsibility. Just how much was the currency worth? Tempted to keep the bills to herself, Latika found herself handing the money over to the kind lady, but she was met with an unyielding kindness. "This is…I can't…"

The kind lady gave her a smile before shooing her away.

"Don't worry about it! Besides, I got to go."

The two young children watched in silence as the tourist picked her way silently through the trash. There were some muttered curses, but she made her way towards the main road where a man waited for her in a truck. Without looking back, the foreigner had seated herself in the front and the man had closed the door. Soon after, the sound of wheels squealing through the muck of the landfill filled the stagnant air.

"She seemed nice." Jamal noted. "A little bit of a loony, but nice."

Latika laughed in an amused manner, ruffling Jamal's short hair as she did so.

"You're too kind, Jamal. You're too kind!"

The two children walked slowly back to where they had set up camp, cautious as to not awaken Salim. However, their efforts were for nothing, seeing that the oldest of the group was glaring at some garbage.

Salim was staring a few meters away from the tent and from the way he was standing—shoudlers hunched and his arms over his chest—he was clearly in one of his angered moods. Annoyance and dangerous vibes fell off his form in fumes. Because of this, Jamal tightened his group on Latika's hand, slightly dreading and slightly curious as to what was going to happen.

"You got your stupid pictures," Salim muttered. He didn't turn his head to look at his travelling companions, only choosing to kick at the dirt in their direction.

Latika hummed.

"Yes, Salim." An angered look crossed her soft features when she realized that he wasn't going to talk again. "Look! We even got paid." Insisting that Jamal's brother look at the wad of bills that were in her tight fists, she marched over to Salim and threw the paper money at his glowering visage.

"What?" The boy bowed down to look at the money that was barely getting dirt on its face. There was a man printed on the green bill; he was an old, pasty looking fellow with a clean-shaven face. The look of surprise—greed, selfishness, the eyes of a poverty stricken orphan—that was Salim's dirty face contrasted quite nicely with the man's tranquil expression.

One by one, the boy grabbed the bills, counting to himself silently. There were five six bills, presumably three for each who were photographed. Even though they didn't know the true worth of the foreign money, this was far more than what they actually got in a month.

"Latika…Jamal…" Salim began slyly. "Tonight we feast!"

Without preamble, he stuffed the bills into one of the pockets of his shorts and crept back into the tent. Within seconds, the Indian boy was back out, a plastic bag in hand so that they could bag future purchases and the like.

"You did well," Salim congratulated. With a slap on both of their backs, he led the way towards the city. Neither of the two saw how well he masked his hurt at being left out.

His younger playmates also didn't realize that the reason that he was able to hide it so well was because of his greed for something better.

Money made everything better.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Background: the part of a scene or picture that is farthest from the viewer : the part of a scene that is behind a main figure or object in a painting, photograph, etc.<strong>_

"_She talked of having another friend, you know," she mumbles absently when she pastes the picture into her photo album. "Said that he might come or something…Of course, I encouraged it, but the girl looked very doubtful. Said something that he wouldn't come because he would think that it was stupid or the like."_

_Once done with her album, she fished out a worn bill from her purse, as if it was a reminder of what happened on that one day._

"_She told me that he might come if there was something that would benefit all of them…" Her eyes—blue like the skin of the Allah Rama, the one present at the massacre—twinkled and she dropped the bill back into her purse. "So of course, I had to give them money, but the other lad didn't show. Rude, don't you think?"_


End file.
